


we'll be okay

by kasara



Category: Reign (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bonding, Comfort, Drabble, F/M, Introspection, Male-Female Friendship, One Shot, One-Sided Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 15:50:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5933988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kasara/pseuds/kasara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bash wondered how he got here, talking casually to a stranger about something so intimate while he watched the woman he loved in someone else’s arms.</p><p>(or the one where Bash is best man and Kenna is a bridesmaid and they end up drinking on the roof - Bash/Mary, Francis/Mary, slight Bash/Kenna)</p>
            </blockquote>





	we'll be okay

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the Kennash scene in 1x03 and by the unexpected conversations with strangers that changed my life in small and important ways.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off her. As he watched her dance and laugh, he knew that it was definitely a mistake to be best man or to be here at all. But it was Francis who asked seven months ago, Francis who told him that there could be no other person he’d rather have up there with him. What else could Bash have said? Not the truth. There are things Francis didn’t need to know.  
  
“You’re in love with her, aren’t you?” A voice said, low and sympathetic. As he turned, he realized a woman had slipped into the seat next to him at the bar. She looked familiar, and Bash realized they’d been introduced before. Mary's best friends had flown in from her hometown to be her bridesmaids, and he couldn’t for the life of him place which one she was. One of the “Four Marys,” as he had secretly dubbed them, because all he ever saw when he bumped into them during wedding preparations was Mary. He saw Mary in many things these days – in the scarf she left at his loft that she forgot ever to reclaim, in the café where they used to eat breakfast together, in the first movie they watched together and the last.  
  
“You don’t have to say anything,” the woman said, noting his silence. After a pause, she added, “I was involved with a married man once.”  
  
“That’s not exactly the same thing,” Bash remarked, affronted. He could never betray his brother that way.  
  
“He said he would leave her for me,” she shrugged. She downed a glass of champagne and ordered another.  
  
“Let me venture a guess. He didn’t.” He replied drily.  
  
“No, his wandering eyes found someone younger,” She said. “I gave myself to him, and he gave me nothing in return.” They watched the dance floor together, drinking silently. Bash wondered how he got here, talking to a stranger about something so intimate while he watched the woman he loved in someone else’s arms. The last wedding he had been to, he had managed to sleep with not one, but two bridemaids (one in the bathroom, drunk and messy as it was) – and here he was now, not having fun at all and not interested in any of the bridesmaids.  
  
“A victory without effort is worse than a defeat,” Bash murmured, recalling something that his father once told him. It was one of the last conversations he remembered having with the man before he went mad. “Or so I’ve been told.”  
  
“What a terrible thing to say,” she said, though her voice sounded more thoughtful than offended.  
  
“Is that why you aren’t enjoying the dance?” He said, his words coming out harder than he intended. “You’re pining over a man who doesn’t love you?”  
  
“Well, we both know how it feels,” she replied. Sensing Bash’s inquisitive glance, she said, “I could tell it by your eyes. And you know, Mary may have mentioned you before. I just put the pieces together.” And by that, Bash knew Mary had told them everything – the months they spent together when she and Francis briefly broke up, the night they kissed. He had been that fool who fell for a woman whose heart had always been with someone else.  
  
“Kenna, by the way.” She said, between ordering another champagne. He wasn’t counting, but he is pretty sure she is at least on her fifth one. Not that he was one to speak.  
  
“Bash.” He replied perfunctorily, although it was clear she already knew.  
  
“I’m going to need something stronger.” Kenna said finally, turning to leave. Glancing over at Bash, she said, “Looks like you might, as well.”  
  
“Where are you going?” Bash asked.  
  
“There’s some whisky in the kitchen."

 

* * *

  
  
It doesn’t take long for them to finish off nearly a bottle. The two had climbed onto the roof with two bottles in hand, and Bash was grateful for the fresh air. Bash usually held his drink well, but today he would rather be drunk.  
  
“All I wanted was to be loved,” Kenna said, cradling the other bottle. “How did Mary find her happiness so easily? I try so hard, but I’m still alone.”  
  
“What a pair we are.” Bash said with a derisive smile. “I’m in love with my brother’s wife, and your love has a wife.”  
  
“No, I don’t think I love him,” Kenna replied. “That’s the worst thing. I wanted love so much I pretended it was all real. I’m the worst kind of idiot.”  
  
“Pretty sure it’s a tie between the two of us.” He remarked, taking another sip. The whisky burned in his throat, and Bash found he preferred it to whatever he was feeling before at the bar. “You’re right. I do love her.” As they came out of his mouth, he realized he said it more for himself than for the woman besides him. As much as he knew, he had never said it, not to Mary and not to anyone else. Love wasn’t a word that came easily to him.  
  
“What are you going to do?” Kenna asked, turning to him. The wind had been biting, and she had pressed herself against him for warmth. It was oddly comforting for the both of them.  
  
“Get over her, I suppose,” Bash said. “Probably should also get away from her for a while until I can. And you?”  
  
“Find a job,” Kenna said. “May have forgotten to add he was my boss. Or rather my boss’s boss’s boss. It doesn’t matter now. I quit as soon as it was over.” She sighed. “I may also be homeless for a while. Can’t really pay the rent with no money, can you? And my parents have cut me off.” Bash raised an eyebrow. “Complicated.”  
  
“Oh trust me, I understand complicated,” Bash said. “Especially when it comes to family.”  
  
“Yeah. Mary’s offered to take me in, but – “ Kenna paused.  
  
“Yeah.” Bash understood.  
  
“You know, the old me would take you home,” Bash said. The old Bash would take her home. He didn’t notice it at first, but the woman was beautiful in all the ways Bash could appreciate. And the old Bash was content with a life of detachment. He found he couldn’t do it anymore.  
  
“The old me would go home with you, even if I knew you were in love with someone else.” Kenna responded. “Wow, we’re the fuck-ups, aren’t we?” _Meanwhile the ones who got it right dance beneath us_ , her sentence seemed to imply.  
  
“I’ll drink to that,” Bash said. She offered her bottle to clink, and they both took another sip.  
  
“I’d like to find a man who looks at me the way you do at Mary,” Kenna said softly. “I’m tired of settling for less.”  
  
“I hope you do,” Bash said, and he found he meant it, even though he’d only met her hours before.  
  
“You deserve love too, you know?” Kenna told him. “We’re allowed to be selfish. To want what they have. Maybe we both need to stop pretending we don’t want what we want.” Their eyes met, and in each other’s eyes, they found understanding. They settled into a comfortable silence, and Bash realized he hadn’t felt so at ease in a long time.  
  
“I think the wedding is winding down,” she said after a moment. The music had stopped, and now there was only a chorus of footfalls. “I should find Mary before she leaves. It’ll be awkward, but I do need a place to stay tonight.”  
  
“I could take you home after all,” Bash joked.  
  
“But you won’t,” Kenna said, and her voice was soft and tender. “Who knows? Maybe one day, we’ll meet again when things are different.”  
  
“Maybe I’ll take you home then,” Bash said lightly.  
  
“Maybe I’ll let you,” she answered with a smile. “We’ll be okay,” she added, so quietly Bash could just make out the words. She pressed a chaste kiss on his lips, and Bash watched her as she disappeared down the stairs.  
  
And for the first time in a long time, Bash believed he really could be.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short piece I wrote a while ago and finally finished. I originally considered expanding this to a multi-chapter story where Kenna moves in with Bash, but I think I like it like this. More a reflection piece on love, honesty, and moving forward than a full-fledged one-shot (or maybe just a forever alone moment shared by strangers). 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed. Comments and reviews are super welcome!


End file.
